Olókun Prosperity Jar
Log 1A
It is 12:00 noon on the West Coast.
As I gather the offerings for Olókun, I have assembled the following:
Rum
Molasses
Honey
Approximately three dollars in coins
Fresh geranium
Dried baby’s breath
Another flower that I have traditionally offered to Olókun and that, through my experience, She seems to enjoy.
These offerings will accompany me to the shoreline as I prepare to pray over a prosperity jar and present its petitions to Olókun.
Prayer to Olókun
Ṣáwọde ládé Olókun.
Ṣáwọde ládé Olókun.
Àwa irò, àwa onílé.
Great Olókun, Owner of the unfathomable depths, Keeper of the wealth hidden beneath the waters, I greet You with humility and gratitude.
By the grace of Olódùmarè, the Creator of all things, may Your sacred waters continue to sustain us as they have sustained those who came before us. Though the world has changed, the currents established by God still flow through the oceans, the rivers, and through our own lives. The treasures of the deep, the wisdom hidden beneath the surface, and the blessings that arrive in their proper time remain within Your care.
May this prosperity jar become a vessel carried by Your currents. Fill it with opportunities that arrive with ease, grace, and divine timing, with wealth that grows steadily. Large paychecks, large tips, faithful, prosperous clients, open roads, generous hands, and resources that continue to multiply according to God’s divine will.
Accept these offerings as signs of my gratitude and devotion. May they be pleasing before You, and may You carry this petition before Olódùmarè, that it may receive His blessing and unfold in the days ahead. May every step be guided toward prosperity, stability, and the abundance that You have prepared.
May poverty pass by this home as the tide withdraws. May abundance return as faithfully as the waves meet the shore. May this household know stability, good health, honest prosperity, generosity, and peace. May every blessing that comes be used wisely and in service to both God and humanity.
Olókun, Ancient One of the Deep, continue to guide us as You have always guided our ancestors. As You sustained them through changing tides, sustain us through the changing world of today. Grant us the wisdom to recognize abundance, the patience to nurture it, and the gratitude to honor both You and Olódùmarè for every blessing received.
Maferefún Olókun.
Àṣẹ.
Among the items inside this prosperity jar is a tiny pebble. She may be small, but she is mighty.
This stone was hand-selected by the Baálẹ̀ Yemọja of Alaafin Òyó—the head priestess of Yemọja serving the King of Òyó and a direct descendant of Alaafin Ṣàngó.
These sacred stones carry the àṣẹ of Yemọja, the Great Mother and life-giving force of the waters, whose currents are deeply connected with those of Olókun. In later Christian tradition, many came to associate Her with the Mother of God, though Her worship is far older.
I encourage its keeper to treasure this little stone. Never throw it away or discard it, as it is a sacred object and should always be treated with reverence. Yemọja nurtures us, protects us, and guides us safely through life’s storms and every battle we may face.
Log Entry 1B — Shoreline Offering to Olókun
The day was hot, easily around 80°F or more, as I made the trek to the beach.
I returned to the same stretch of coastline where I have worked with Olókun many times before. It is a place where the water meets the rocks. Usually the rocks are exposed, creating winding pathways filled with little worlds of their own—starfish, enormous hermit crabs, seashells, beautiful stones, and countless other creatures. Today, however, the tide was high. The rocks were mostly submerged beneath abundant water, leaving only glimpses of what is normally visible.
The beach itself was full of life. Tourists wandered the shoreline, families gathered together, and children played everywhere. The presence of children around a spiritual working like this is something I have always taken as a fortunate sign. They represent abundance, joy, growth, and blessings. Throughout the work they watched me with great curiosity.
I arrived carrying my shekere inside a second bag to remain somewhat discreet. Even hidden, its familiar rattle echoed softly along the shoreline. I stood facing the sea and began singing the traditional song to Olókun. I remained there for some time, allowing myself to settle into the presence of the ocean and reconnect with the spirit of those waters.
When the moment felt right, I removed the custom prayer I had written specifically for this working. I read it aloud with conviction, with intention, and with àṣẹ. People continued walking past while I prayed, but I remained completely focused. When the prayer was finished, I carefully placed it into the second bag with the shekere—the bag that held everything whose purpose had already been fulfilled.
The working bag, the one I carried into the water, held the offerings: fresh spring water, rum, honey, molasses, coins, and the flowers I had gathered.
The first offering was the foliage. I gently released the geranium, baby’s breath and moonflower into the water.
Next came the honey, squeezed slowly into the sea.
After that, I opened the molasses and allowed it to pour slowly into Olókun’s waters, thick streams disappearing beneath the waves.
It was during this part that several young girls, perhaps around eleven years old, approached nearby. Smiling and laughing, they asked what I was doing and jokingly asked if I was polluting the ocean.
I laughed with them and answered, “It’s all biodegradable sustenance for Olókun,” knowing they probably had no idea what that meant, but appreciating their curiosity nonetheless.
I then took out the same glass jar that would eventually become the prosperity vessel. I had intentionally carried the spring water inside it so the container itself could receive blessings from the journey. I poured the cool spring water into the ocean.
Next came the rum.
I uncorked the bottle and generously offered it to the sea—a hearty pour here, another there, and another farther out into the water. I left just enough remaining to complete the work and later share a small drink in gratitude myself.
The final physical offering was a stone.
Every lineage has their traditions and rules and Olokun has specific types of stones she prefers. I spotted one beneath the water, but Olókun made me earn it. As I reached for it, the waves surged unexpectedly, completely drenching me. I had hoped to avoid getting soaked, but when working with nature spirits, you learn very quickly that control is an illusion. Nature decides how the work unfolds. Instead of resisting it, I accepted it as a blessing. The cool water was welcomed after the long, hot walk.
With the offerings complete, I returned to my place in the sand and began packing everything away.
Then I remembered the final task.
There was no seaweed.
That meant I could not simply leave. The seaweed had to be given, not taken.
So I walked along the shoreline, carrying both bags over one shoulder, barefoot, my pant legs rolled up, children still laughing as they watched me wander the surf.
Perhaps one hundred steps later, the answer arrived.
A wave crashed directly into me, and with it came a long strand of brown seaweed that wrapped itself around my leg. I reached down immediately before the current could reclaim it. For a split second I startled myself—it was so long that I thought I had grabbed an eel.
Instead, it was a beautiful ribbon of brown seaweed.
Presented by Olókun.
This is the very seaweed that was placed inside the prosperity jar. Before placing it inside, I rinsed it thoroughly with fresh water. Interestingly, once it was added to the jar, its color changed from brown to green.
After returning home, I prepared a ritual bath for myself. Whenever I complete work like this, I prefer not to allow my àṣẹ to become depleted. Instead, I reinforce it by bathing in ingredients that continue the current of the work.
While soaking, I experienced a clear impression:
“Provide it with the prosperity jar. May this link the recipient to the tool.”
Because of that message, I prepared the bath especially for this client. I really love her, and I wanted it to be a special treat. I always try to take good care of my clients and give them a little extra whenever I feel called to do so.
The ritual Epsom salt bath was made within the same current as the shoreline working. It was intended to help create a personal connection between her and the prosperity jar before she began working with it.
As I finish writing this log, I find myself feeling grateful.
This was the first prosperity jar I have ever made for someone else, and I want to thank this client for placing her trust in both me and this work. I, in turn, place my trust in Olókun. I believe this working will continue unfolding in its own time and in the way it is meant to.
One thing I have learned over the years is that faith is one of the most important ingredients in any spiritual practice. The herbs, the offerings, the prayers, and the rituals all have their place, but they ask something of us in return. They ask us to believe that change is possible.
For those who are curious but struggle to believe, I don’t think there is anything wrong with being honest about that. If anything, honesty is a good place to begin. Tell the Universe. Tell the Orisha. Tell God. Tell the spirits, “I don’t believe yet. Show me. Help me understand. Give me a reason to believe.” I think that is a sincere prayer, and sincere prayers have a way of being heard.
One of the reasons I enjoy keeping these journals is because I want people to see what goes into my work. I have never been interested in gatekeeping. Every tradition has its elders, its lineages, its rules, and the responsibility of preserving what has been passed down. I respect that deeply. At the same time, I also believe traditions stay alive because they are practiced, discussed, questioned, and experienced.
There will always be things that remain private or belong only within a particular lineage. I respect those boundaries completely. But I also think we sometimes confuse secrecy with authority. Simply because something has been kept secret does not automatically make it the only correct way to practice.
This journal is not meant to tell anyone that my way is the only way. It is simply an honest record of how I was taught, what I have experienced, and how I continue to grow as a practitioner. If reading these logs inspires someone to begin building a relationship with Spirit, to ask better questions, or to step a little deeper into their own practice, then I feel they have already served their purpose.
Until the next working,
— Ricky, La Sirenes